None of Your Business
by ringaroundtherollins
Summary: An episode of Miz TV goes awry when the Miz invites Seth Rollins and Dean Ambrose onto his show as surprise guests. Takes place sometime after Money in the Bank 2015. Ambrollins. One-shot, with a sequel to follow. Drama, angst, tension, romance, mild swearing.


_**Disclaimer: Drama, angst, Ambrollins feelings of a wide range to follow. If that tickles your fancy, proceed and enjoy~**_

* * *

The Miz was seldom in a bad mood, and tonight was no exception.

Tonight was a little different. He wasn't just feeling good—he was feeling _exultant_. On top of the world. On _top_ of on top of the world, since the former is where his ego usually resided. Tonight, his show Miz TV would come to a head. Ratings would skyrocket. WWE fans would be beside themselves, worldwide. It was bloody brilliant, what he was about to do, and he wished he could have more credit bestowed upon him before it all went down.

But he had to keep it a surprise.

That was part of the hype. The spike.

He'd get that credit eventually. He'd get all the praise when this was over.

Seth Rollins and Dean Ambrose would be guest stars on his show. Two of the biggest names, the most in demand superstars, on the roster. But he knew neither would agree to appear if the other was scheduled to arrive. So it was a secret. Miz approached the Lunatic Fringe and the World Heavyweight Champion separately, asking for a special visitation to his show for different reasons—both untrue, merely covers to make them consent. Seth had agreed to it right away, the cocky bastard. He couldn't get enough publicity whether it was good _or_ bad. As for Ambrose, he'd taken a bit more convincing, but once Miz assured Dean that the segment would be nothing but trash talk and slander on his former brother Seth, Dean had approved with a grin.

It was going to be the best episode of Miz TV of the year.

Maybe of all time.

The hype. The tension. The _drama_. There might have even been blood. God, he couldn't wait.

The lights in the stadium dimmed, and camera lights flashed off the TitanTron. " _Quiet on the set! Can we please have quiet on the set_?"

The Miz's own self-confident voice blared over him as he swaggered towards his ring. " _Awwweeesooooooome_!"

Maybe the Universe wasn't welcoming him warmly right away. That was fine. Let them boo, let them hiss. Haters gonna hate. Soon enough they'd be roaring on the opposite spectrum. Both Miz's dimple and his attitude held high against the censure. Being famous had its perks and its cons. Standing center ring, the jeers droned on.

He raised the microphone to his smiling lips. "Welcome to Miz TV, the most must-see talk show in WWE history." He had to get this out quickly before either superstar chose to bail at the surprise presence of the other. "You people are in for a treat tonight, tell you what. Tonight I have a very, _very_ special guest. It's been under wraps all week long, and I know you're all just dying to learn who it is."

They might have booed. Disagreed. Chanted, "You _suck_!" But his insides were buzzing. His fingertips, clenching the microphone, were near trembling with a charge. "Please help me give a warm, warm welcome to the Lunatic Fringe, Dean Ambrose!"

Dean's entrance music blasted, and the audience crashed like waves of a hurricane in newfound appreciation for Miz TV.

In his confident, gallant stride, Dean Ambrose sauntered down the walkway, ready for this. They all were. Miz especially.

He waited for Dean to get comfortable in his designated seat, waited for the crowd and the fangirls to settle a bit, before Miz said, " _And_ …my second surprise guest, your WWE World Heavyweight Champion, Seth Rollins!"

Miz didn't have to be looking at Ambrose through his expensive sunglasses to know what he was thinking. How he was feeling. He was shocked, of course, and a bit peeved, if Miz had to guess, knowing the history of these two.

Dean's lips parted in a curious stare. Head cocked in complete befuddlement. He didn't look upset—just confused. Perhaps it was just the shock suspending his negative emotions.

Seth Rollins's music hit, and the boos were back, powerful, with a vengeance.

It took Seth a moment to emerge from beneath the TitanTron, but eventually he did, brave and aggressive enough to confront the Miz and the fans, and Dean especially, on this bombshell. Smoke was looming over his partially blonde, partially brunette head. The glare was sharp enough to cut bread, dark enough to make dusk come to a bright afternoon.

And somehow this changed Dean's mood from mystified and slightly disheartened to absolutely hysteric.

He threw his head back and laughed aloud. Not the reaction Miz was expecting from Ambrose, but alright. Let things play out the way they're meant to.

Seth was shaking his head, frown still dampening his entire face. _That_ was what Miz had been looking forward to.

"Come on," Dean said, standing atop the chair, wagging his fingers in a _come here_ motion. "Don't be afraid."

Seth's eyes swept over the entire crowd, like they were all traitors and he'd been set up on the most miserable prank of his life, worse than anything Dean had ever done to him. But he had a feeling Dean was just as taken by this as he was. No way would Dean have come on here if he knew Seth was scheduled.

Unless that was all part of the plan. Just to aggravate Seth. Get under his skin.

Ambrose was good at that.

So he walked. Forward, march, hostile. Miz was about to get knocked out, and Seth would aim to break those douchey shades right over the bridge of his screwy nose.

But he was champion. This was his show as much as it was Miz's. Maybe even more so tonight. Seth was the man. Ambrose was nothing.

He pulled himself into the ring, embracing his title like his life depended on holding onto the thing. Dean had reclaimed his seat, hands folded on his tight stomach, legs crossed at the ankles. Why had Miz put their chairs _right_ next to each other? Did he want a bloodbath? A brawl? Did he want the first murder on his show live?

It took war against his body, his instincts, not to attack Miz or Dean Ambrose. But he wasn't an animal. He knew better. He could keep a level head, from time to time. So he sat in the chair and glowered at the Miz, who seemed to be getting off on this entire situation.

"Boys, welcome, and thank you _so_ much for _both_ agreeing to be on the show tonight," Miz commenced.

"You said this was about me tonight, Miz," Seth thundered.

"I did, and it _is_ ," Miz endorsed himself. "This is about you, and how Dean Ambrose has impacted your life since your little surprise attack last summer."

Seth chomped down on the bait. "How Dean Ambrose has _impacted_ my _life_? Let me tell you, Dean Ambrose has been nothing but a thorn in my side since I joined the Authority. He's given me hell. He's attacked me on several occasions, when all I'm trying to do is move on with my life and be the man I'm supposed to be in this company."

Dean exposed his white teeth in a blissful smile. He was loving Seth's anger, drinking it.

"Wipe that smirk off your face, Ambrose. That supposed to make me feel good? Huh? You're so twisted. I _hurt_ you."

"That's right. You did." Dean's smile withered in the slightest, like a rose caught up in a brisk autumn wind. "You stabbed me in the back. You betrayed me. And it's been a _pleasure_ returning the favor, showing you _exactly_ how you made me feel that night. It's like you said. You're right. I _have_ given you hell." The smirk recurred, full-fledged. "And it's been a hell of a good time to do so."

"You're so dramatic, Ambrose. You made this personal. You took it to heart, what I did, and that's the problem with you and Reigns. This company isn't about _friendship_ or _brotherhood_ or _family_ , it's about getting out there and doing whatever is necessary to be the man. You're way too soft, which is why I was the right guy to do this. That's why I'm champion of the world." He patted his championship belt with force.

Dean's smile had vanished. The chilly autumn breeze had killed off the beautiful rose. " _You_ made it personal the night you beat Roman Reigns and me down to the mat with a metal chair, you son of a bitch. Against all odds, we were family, and you _broke_ us. Broke _me_."

Seth didn't feel great after making Dean's pomposity collapse. He was still fuming. But it was better than watching Dean simper through this whole thing.

"I did what I had to do. What was best for business. Anyone who wasn't a marshmallow like you would have done the same thing. You're weak, Ambrose. You and Roman Reigns share that defect. You care way too much about other people, and it becomes a distraction, a hinderance. That's why I'm on top, and you're still struggling to be second to none."

"I'd rather be at the bottom with my brother than at the top with everyone hating me. Least I have somebody. You have nobody. That title's just material. You have nothing. You're empty and you're lost. And I really pity you."

Miz was relishing in their bickering. At this point he could only make things better. "Now, Dean, you're saying Seth is right when he says you took this very personally. It hurt, right? Hit right here." He made a fist and thumped over his heart. Dean lowered in his direction. "It hurt so bad for a reason, right? Obviously, before this all went down, you had some very strong feelings for Seth here."

Dean chuckled, lamenting his own deplorable behavior in that time. "Sure. But I was stupid. Stupid to trust him, stupid to care. Maybe you're right, Seth. Maybe I shouldn't have let you in. If I knew now what I didn't know then, that you're nothing but a hideous, craven, miserable, spineless, back-stabbing little punk, I never would have joined the Shield."

Seth scoffed, eyes rolling. And he called _Dean_ dramatic? "Of course you would have. I built you up, I made you who you were supposed to be. Without me, without the Shield, you really think you would have made it this far? I put you on the map. I'm the architect— _was_ the architect. I made it all happen. So you're welcome."

"You know what? Maybe you're right." Dean was too roused to stay sitting. He pushed to his feet, drawing towards Seth, pointed finger jamming into his personal space. "You might have created the Shield, but you also _ended_ it. Singlehandedly split the Shield into little bitty pieces. Everything you claimed to stand for—justice, victory, brotherhood—came crashing down that night. You're a liar and a hypocrite, and it was _stupid_ to _ever_ think you meant _any_ of it."

Seth puffed his lips full of air. "You're getting emotional again, Ambrose. This is your downfall. It's like I've been saying all this time. Feelings are just a pain in the ass. A hinderance. You're getting all worked up, living with all these regrets, these what-if situations playing over in your head. It's holding you back, holding you down. You need to let go. Live with no regrets. I sure don't."

"Yeah," Dean said, jaw tight, teeth clenched. "Yeah, I bet you don't. You don't regret a thing you did that night. You ain't sorry."

"I never said I was."

"I'm sorry enough for us both."

Seth rolled his head back, casting a sigh towards the ceiling. "There's your problem. Yet again. Your heart's bigger than your brain."

"Now, hold on," Miz said, briefly hating himself for interrupting such ardent drama unfolding. "Seth, I have to say. You keep calling Dean emotional and unstable and yada-yada-yada, but you can't disregard yourself here, right? I mean, you _did_ really have feelings for Dean Ambrose, right?"

"Yeah. Once." Dean's finger was still lifted at him, and Seth smacked it away. Miz expected a scuffle, but Dean only took a step back. Miz sighed inwardly. He could be patient for the melee to come.

"Once…very recently?" Miz goaded.

Seth stared at Miz, deadpan. "No. Once upon a time. Long time ago. I don't care about this kid."

Dean scowled at him. _Might be true, but screw him for being such an ass_.

"That so?" Miz mused, pressing his smiling lips together. "I seem to recall a moment or two in your match at Money in the Bank where you seemed almost… _worried_ about Dean's condition? Concerned for your 'former' brother's well-being?"

"That's not true!" Seth declared. "I was demolishing him. He was down at my hands. I wrecked his leg. I _destroyed_ him, and won what was rightfully mine. Did you even watch the match?"

 _Methinks there's too much protesting_ , Dean thought, smiling grimly at Miz. It was all he had to go on. Seth got a bit overly defensive at the "accusation."

"Oh, I watched the match," Miz said to Seth, nodding. "We all did. We all remember this…"

He referred to the TitanTron. Both pairs of his guests' eyes bulged when footage of their recent Money in the Bank ladder match played on the colossal screen. From the beginning, when Dean and Seth were at each other's throats with nothing but fists, figures and feet; to the ladder getting involved; to Seth's advantage and brutal assault over Dean's leg; to Dean's minor comeback; and finally, to Seth's victory as Dean rolled away after the fall.

"Yeah, that was a good night," Seth said, laughing without sounding too humored.

"Look, though, Seth. Look at your face right here, after Dean goes down…"

Seth licked his lips as he watched himself, watching Ambrose, buckling in pain. A flash of remorse. It couldn't be denied within. _So I'm a decent human being. So another man's pain doesn't bring me fifty shades of pleasure. So what_?

"You're obviously not afraid to hurt him," Miz explained. "You're capable—but were you so willing?"

"If I wasn't, I wouldn't have faced him in the ring and given him hell," Seth barked.

 _Defensive_ , Dean thought past a snarl. _Yet again_. _Ever the liar._

"You're a proud man, Seth Rollins. I can respect that. Willing to do whatever it takes? Go through _whomever_ it takes to get to the top? You've earned it, my friend. And I salute you."

"You're no friend of mine, Miz," Seth said, but Miz carried on like he hadn't talked.

"But I see it in your eyes there." The footage was paused on that shot of Seth, eyes wide, taking in breaths through an open mouth. One could practically see Dean's reflection in the gaze. "You can hurt him, but that doesn't mean you wanna sometimes. But you're more afraid of the Authority, of losing your title and your fame and glory attached to it…than you are of your own 'pesky' emotions."

Seth was smoking again. Dean watched him, trapped in his standing place on the mat, a foot away.

"Maybe deep down," Miz prodded, hoping to God they'd finally hit someone and they'd get more action on his segment, "you still care about him—"

"THIS! WAS NOT! PERSONAL!" Seth exploded, flying out of his chair. "This is what _I_ had to do for _myself_! What was _best_ for _business_! I'm not the one up here nearly in tears over 'oh, Rollins, you broke me', 'oh, Seth, how could you be such a bastard and destroy my _family_.' _I_ am not the one who can't let go!" He pushed himself into Dean, into his face. "This has _nothing_ to do with you!"

"It had plenty to do with me! _I'm_ the guy who you stabbed in the back! You didn't think you could get anywhere unless you betrayed us."

"And wasn't I right? Wasn't I _right_!?" Seth held up his belt, momentarily pushing away from Dean to boast to the Universe. "Now I'm a champion, and you're nothing! Because _you're_ the one who's afraid of just letting go and moving on!"

Miz rubbed his hands together. _This is it. The clash. It's about to happen_.

"Why do you give a _damn_ how I feel? Whether or not I can 'move on'?" Dean shouted at him over the stirring crowd. "Huh? Why does that matter to you at all, if you claim to have 'moved on'?"

Seth hadn't been expecting the allegation. "I just—I just want you to learn how to deal! Ignore the past and move forward! Do good with where you're at now! I did!" Once more he brandished the belt like it was supposed to be proof of a moot case. "Why can't you?"

Dean balled his fists and pressed them over his face. "Because I _did_ care! I _did_ love you, Seth Rollins! You may have never given a _damn_ about me, but—"

"Never given a damn? Are you kidding me, Ambrose? I was always then to drag your ass out of a jam! I was the one who took care of you when you were hurt! Who hugged you after every match, whether we won or lost! You and Roman, as close as you are now, you _never_ had with him what I had with you! What we had was even stronger than your little bond with him today! The only reason you two are as close now as you are is because of me. I pushed you together after leaving, because you two were all you had left after losing me. But don't you _dare_ tell me I never cared, because oh, I cared. More than I probably should have."

"Doesn't matter what 'was.' What matters is 'what is.' And the reality is, as much as you say you cared, you _broke_ us apart! You _hurt_ me."

"Stop taking it so personally. It wasn't about you."

"Quit making excuses."

"Did I strike a nerve?" Miz asked.

"SHUT UP, MIZ!" they roared in his direction. Miz shut his mouth, but absorbed the rest of the tension in delight.

"Just because I cared so much about getting my prize, the championship I deserved, doesn't mean I didn't love you! I just…I loved myself…more."

The audience erupted in boos.

Dean was outraged, despondent, and in a weird way, touched, all at once. There was only one thing to do about this storm of emotions boiling his blood.

He lunged at Seth, fists flying. The chair behind Seth toppled over as Dean tackled him to the mat, hurling blow after blow into Seth's mangled face.

Miz practically squealed from his seat. _Yes, yes, yes! Finally_!

Dean seized Seth by the shirt collar and lifted his head off the mat. "You _selfish…_!" He swung his fist into Seth's jaw. " _Spineless_ …!" Another punch. Dean wanted to draw blood, he wanted Seth to hurt. " _Despicable_ …!" Another hit, higher up, digging into Seth's cheekbone.

"Is this helping you feel better?" Seth growled through gritted teeth. "Get it out, Ambrose…get it out of your system…it'll help you feel better…you can finally move on…"

"Can't tell me about moving on, Seth. Admit it. You still care. You're defensive, you're in denial, you're so adamant about not letting feelings get in the way…but you still do care, huh? Admit it."

Seth kicked out of Dean's hold on him. He jumped atop Dean as Dean tried rolling away to recover from the throw. He pinned Dean to the mat, knees pressing into Dean's, hands gripping his wrists.

"I don't care, Dean. I can't afford to. Not anymore."

"You do," Dean groaned, wincing at the pressure on his tender muscles. "I know you, Seth…I know when you do…you don't want me to stay where I am and feel the pain of what you did…you want me to move on…be happy…because you still care about me…care about my pain…"

Seth burrowed his knees deeper into Dean's, clenching his wrists tight to the point of shaking hands. Dean bit back a whimper. His eyes were lowered, falling far beneath Seth's stare.

"You're in denial," Dean forced out.

"I'm not in denial. I know what I did, every bit of it, and I know damn well how I felt back then, and how I feel now." Seth swallowed hard. Miz was right. His capability to hurt Dean had nothing to do with his willingness—or unwillingness—to do the deed.

"How do you feel now?" Dean demanded. "I know it's impossible for you to be honest, but—"

"I am being honest! What I did…had nothing to do with you…it cost me everything I had, and gained me a little more…"

"It hurt you to leave." Dean sounded incredulous.

"Of course it did." Seth blinked, angry tears forming in his eyes. "You meant everything to me, Ambrose. Back then. You did. I had nothing _but_ you. The promise of more drove me away. Because I didn't appreciate what you were. What I had with you."

"And now, what, you've got some new revelation? Having an epiphany?"

"There are times…" Seth breathed, delirious from his sudden exhaustion. It had little to do with the physical, more to do with emotional. "When I _hate_ having to face you. Times…sometimes when I wish it was us in there together as a team…because we did make one hell of a team."

"I know we did."

"But it's too late now. The world has moved on."

Dean looked up into Seth's eyes. Seth was weakened by the light of them alone. "But have we?"

Seth snarled, wrestling with his own inner convictions.

"It hurts you to do this, Seth…" Dean grunted. "I know because we're so similar, and it hurts _me_ to do it. You think the reason why it hurts so much is because _neither_ of us have moved on?"

Seth was shaking. It was starting to ache, pinning Dean like this, all the force taking its toll on his muscles…his heart especially…

"No. I haven't moved on," Dean said, swallowing the last of his pride. "Have you?" he asked yet again.

They say if you hear something enough times, you just may start to believe it.

And Seth was believing it.

He knew. He knew he hadn't moved on. Somehow he'd always known. He had rebuked any thought of it, burying it deep down, staring at his title instead of into Dean's eyes, hugging Triple H instead of his brother, falling in love with himself over falling in love with Dean Ambrose…

Yet all of it had happened to him.

All of it.

And part of it was still happening.

Right now.

Seth fell onto Dean in full, pressing his lips into Ambrose's.

The audience gasped in unison, then fell hushed.

Miz's jaw was on the floor.

The cameramen couldn't move.

The only sound heard throughout the entire arena was Seth pushing against Dean in an ardent, fiery, spiteful yet heartfelt kiss.

And he could feel Dean pushing into it. Kissing him back.

A kiss makes time stand still, and Seth and Dean seemed to be on each other for hours, the world around them dissolved, the blistering hate between them put on hold, called off for a moment of weakness. Yet it was only seconds that passed when Seth pulled off of him for air. Dean was breathless, dizzy, _shocked_.

Everyone was.

Seth himself, and he'd instigated the damn thing.

Seth rolled off Dean and sat there, staring out into the darkness of the crowd, taking in breath after breath, unable to believe himself. Believe Dean for actually kissing him back.

Dean remained sprawled on the mat, defenseless after that unexpected kiss, vulnerable, weak, exposed…yet happy. So incredibly happy. Like he'd fulfilled the greatest accomplishment of his life, with a little aid by Seth's initiation.

He stared at Seth. Seth stared at him. Speechless. Staggered. Weary. Staring, staring, staring.

Miz was the first to speak after an avalanche of tension, leaving the Universe stunned.

"Holy _shit_ , what a show, right guys?" he said, moving out of his chair. That hadn't been expected…at all…it was time to wrap things up and get the hell out of this ring. The aftermath…he couldn't imagine…but perhaps he could get some coverage of it for his next show.

Until then.

"Thanks for tuning into Miz TV. Uh. Goodnight!"

* * *

 _ **What will become of Seth Rollins and Dean Ambrose after their unexpected kiss on Miz TV? How will the Authority and Roman Reigns respond? The sequel, Aftershock, is coming soon!**_


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